Cupcake Chaos (parenthood! Sizzy drabble thingy)
by acidmudblood
Summary: Isabelle Lightwood tries to bake cupcakes for the kids. Simon, as expected, is obviously traumatised by the sight of their kitchen.


**AN: ****Ahhhh so I wrote this because I honestly can't get enough of parenthood!sizzy. They're just so cute awww. So yeah, anyway. I hope you like it?¿?**

"Simon! By the _Angel_, will you get your ass off that couch for once?!" Isabelle yelled from the kitchen. "Hold on! We're only a few steps away from unlckoking _The_ Gate!" Simon was staring intensely at the TV screen, his hands aggressively navigating the console, his face folded up in concentration. Beside him sat his son, Damien, in the exact same position and in an equal display of intense absorption into the game. "Yeah- well, I need- oh! No! Sweetie don't! Ugh- a little help here, Simon!" she bellowed angrily.

Simon inhaled a long unnecessary breath before exchanging an equally annoyed glance with his son. "Pause the game," he said, patting him on the shoulder before getting up. "I don't see what's the-," his mumbling came to a halt when his gaze caught the sight of the kitchen. There was flour scattered all over the counter tops and floor, a glass of spilled milk, a few opened bottles of god knows what, and a number of baking tools along with a few bowls of what Simon hoped was not cupcake mix.

Isabelle was all covered in flour as she frantically attempted to stop their three year old daughter, Vicky, from reaching for a bottle of olive oil on the counter. "Isabelle, what the-," he gaped, too much in a state of shock to think of anything else to say. Simon rushed over to Isabelle's side and reached for the toddler as she kicked and and whined in frustration. He glanced at Isabelle, eyebrows raised. "I was trying to bake cupcakes, okay," she sighed frustratedly. "Well, you at least could've asked for my help or something. Damn it, Izzy, how are we supposed to clean this up?" "I- I don't- Shut up, alright, Simon. _Your_ attempt would probably end up worse than _mine_," she tried to hold back a grin.

Simon let out a small laugh, making the tips of his incisors visible. "Surprise! I baked cupcakes, Simon! Blood-licious Velvet Supreme! Just for you!" he exclaimed sarcastically. "Shut up, a-hole. It was supposed to be for the kids." "Well, yeah, but I don't actually think that they'd be too happy about it, you know?" "Yeah, yeah, fine. Fine." To be frank, Isabelle was slightly disappointed. Noticing her change in facial expression, he immidiately regretted what he said. "I'm- I'm sorry I didn't mean to-," "it's fine," she smiled sadly. "Isabelle-," "I said, it's fine," she grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Simon awkwardly accepted the embrace, seeming that he was carrying a child in his hands. He exchanged a glance with her for a moment before he crouched down to settle the toddler daughter on the floor. Vicky ran out of the kitchen as soon as she was put down. "I really hate you, you know," smiled Isabelle, dabbing flour onto his nose. "In case you're visually deficient, I'm already pale enough, Izzy," he grinned, reaching for her waist and pulling her closer. "How are we supposed to clean this up?" she mumbled softly, nuzzling his neck. "I don't know." He was stroking her hair gently and just inhaling the scent of her.

"Next time please don't try to bake cupcakes again." "I can't promise that," she laughed, before leaning in to kiss him. His hands slowly slid under her shirt, lifting it up slightly as he traced his fingers along her stomach and sides of her ribs. "You smell like flour and food colouring." "And you smell like Simon." They were kissing again, shifting positions with gentle navigation as Isabelle managed to make him lean against one of the counters for more stability.

"Dad, why the hell is Vicky covered in flo-," Damien was startled into silence as he stepped into the kitchen. "Oh my god, mom, what did you-" he gasped, glancing at his parents' direction who were clearly too caught up in a make out session to even be bothered about the kitchen. "Mom, dad, are you for real?!" he hissed.

Simon and Isabelle came to an abrubt halt, glancing at him. "I'll get back to the game soon, okay?" Simon said. "Yeah, whatever," he rolled his eyes. Simon and Isabelle hesitated for a moment before kissing again, as their son stood on staring in disgust. Isabelle leaned into Simon even closer, kissing him harder and making him lean further against the counter as he groped the surface for balance before came an awkward splashing noise.

The kissing came to an abrupt halt (yet again) as their eyes flew open in shock. "Crap!" Simon hissed. "Simon, what the-" "my hand slipped into the _sink!_" Isabelle stared at him unbelieveably, open mouthed and half smiling, holding back her laughter. Damien watched the display, shaking his head.

"I can't believe you, Simon!" she groaned, slapping his arm. "Hey- ow! That hurts!" "God, why are you so clumsy?" "I'm sorry, I don't-," but he never got to finish his sentence because Isabelle had caressed his face and was kissing him again.

"Ugh, I can't actually _believe_ the both of you," Damien sighed in annoyance before stalking out of the kitchen. "Oh yeah- and I'll just save the game because it doesn't look like you'll be wanting to continue until tomorrow, _dad!_" he called out, clearly frustrated.


End file.
